Ernest Caldwell: Mr. Ernest Caldwell. That's C-A-L-D-W-E-L-L. And when I retired in Brinkley had, well, 14 [indistinct 00:00:17]. Stacey Scales: Okay. And were you born here in Brinkley? Ernest Caldwell: No, I wasn't. I was born in Halls, Tennessee. Stacey Scales: Halls, Tennessee? Ernest Caldwell: Mm—hmm. And I came to Arkansas— My parents moved to Arkansas when I was three years old in the little place called Amorel, Arkansas. That's about six miles north of Blytheville, Arkansas. Stacey Scales: Okay. So when did you come to Brinkley? Brinkley Fargo area. Ernest Caldwell: Oh, the Brinkley Fargo area. The first time I came here was right after I finished college at AAMN college. That's in Pine Bluff. I came here to teach veterans, a veterans class, on the farm training. I received my BS degree from AAMN college, that's what it would, UAPB is what is its name is. Stacey Scales: Okay. Right, name today. Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. And I came here and taught veterans until the veterans program ran out, at which time I went into the regular school system and I start teaching high school science in a little place about 12 miles from here called Biscoe, Arkansas. Stacey Scales: Okay. Biscoe, Arkansas. So growing up, who were your inspirations for you to grow? Ernest Caldwell: Well, really and truly, my greatest inspiration was my dad. Stacey Scales: Oh yeah. Ernest Caldwell: My dad was a farmer and he farmed all his life. And I always wanted to be like him because he was, I'd say, a jack of all trades. He could repair shoes and cut hair, carpenter, mechanic, just any little— Plumber, whatever the case, whatever the occasion arose, he could do it. As a matter of fact, he and a neighbor built his own home. I was in service at the time and I was sending him on an allotment. And he bought his own farm and he built his house, built his barn. He put in his own plumbing. And as a matter of fact, he did all that. Ernest Caldwell: And I always did want to be like my dad. Stacey Scales: Right. Ernest Caldwell: The only thing that I didn't want to do is stay on the farm all my life. Stacey Scales: Oh no? Ernest Caldwell: He was my inspiration so far as going to school. Yeah. I can recall at one time when I was in elementary school, little place called Amorel, Arkansas. I would try to fake sick, but he said, "No, you going to school." He only reached fourth grade. And as a matter of fact, he could out count me from the fourth grade and he could do a lot of things. And that inspired me to do better in life. Stacey Scales: What did your mother do for a living? Ernest Caldwell: My mother was just a housewife. She was a housewife. And they separated and when I was about eight years old and she moved to a little place called Helena, Arkansas, and he stayed right there on the farm. I can recall in his farming career instead of— There was a big plantation, more or less. And it was called the Lee Wilson Farm. And most of the persons on that farm share crop. But he didn't want to share crop. He rented. Stacey Scales: What was the difference between— Ernest Caldwell: Well, the difference in renting and sharecropping, at the end of the year, you gave the landowner half of what was made on that particular crop. But in renting— The reason for this is that the landowner furnished everything including— There was what is called a little— Let's see, what's the name of the little thing? Where they furnish it with grocery and everything. Yeah. And they would go and take up grocery and they had to pay for that at the end of the year. And most of the sharecroppers at the end of the year owed more than they made, which in turn made them stay right there every year. Ernest Caldwell: And with my dad, that was one of the inspirations that I grew up liking about him. He was his own man. He rented. He had his own mules and his own cultivating equipment and the house was furnished on the land. And he paid the landowner one fourth of what was made. And he kept the three fourths. And by doing it that way, he was able to maintain and support his family and have a little money left over. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. Ernest Caldwell: See, that's the difference in renting and sharecropping. Mm—hmm. Stacey Scales: Okay. So he got a sense of independence by doing that? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. And I got that sense of independence from him. Stacey Scales: So were there any other people that were doing that sort of thing on his— Ernest Caldwell: I can venture to say that there were about three renters out of, I'd say, 50 sharecroppers. Most of them, the sharecroppers, they didn't— To me, they looked like they didn't want to have anything. Because once you were in debt to the landowner, the next year you couldn't move. You had to stay right there because you were in debt to him. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Mm—hmm. Stacey Scales: So I'm wondering, what did he do after he left that plantation? Ernest Caldwell: Oh, he left that plantation— I tell you what happened. While I was in school— No, while I was in service, this was growing up, I was sending him an allotment and he saved up enough money and some land became available in Missouri, a little place called Wardell, Missouri. And he, with a bunch of well, I think it was about six or seven of the persons, moved and bought this whole section of land. I think it was 24 acres, his part. So that's what he settled in a little place called Wardell, Missouri. And with what he made, it was a lot of land that he had to clear up. And cut down the trees and everything. So he did that, cleared it up and did his own farm. And that was his land. And he paid so much a year to the person that he was buying the property from. Stacey Scales: So did he ever talk about being treated unfair by any of the people that he was renting from or working with? Ernest Caldwell: Well, in a way of speaking, yes. Let me see if I can recall an incident that pertained to that. Well, one of the things that I know existed was that to go see the landlord, he had to go in the back door. Well no, he never could go to the front. Even though he was a renter, he couldn't go to the front door. He had to come in the back and he had to address the landowner as missus all the time and had to say sir or whatever. And I can recall growing up, the little places that we had to go to, they had the colored and white signs and naturally the colored sign was in the rear of the facility and the white could go anywhere. And the little in the place when I finished high school, in Blytheville, which was six miles from Amorel, the bus station itself was segregated. In other words— Stacey Scales: About what year was that? Ernest Caldwell: Let me see. That was in— Oh that's been a long time. I can't— I'm trying to think now. I finished high school— Well, I moved, I finished— Well I finish out in Amorel, finished eighth grade when I was 14. So, let me see. 14. Stacey Scales: So, that's fine. You were about 14 when that was [indistinct 00:10:58]— Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Mm—hmm. Yeah. Stacey Scales: What did those signs mean to you? Ernest Caldwell: Well, growing up my dad told me what they meant. They meant that with you being Black, you couldn't go in there and you had to go in the— Where it says "for coloreds". As a matter of fact, they had water fountains, drinking fountains. They had a sign there, colored and one for White. Yeah, I can recall that very vividly. Stacey Scales: So you were saying that you were sending your father money and he was going to do something with that money? Ernest Caldwell: Well, the allotment, he was taking that allotment I was sending him and help helping pay for the farm that we were on in Missouri. That's after we had moved from Amorel, as I was saying. And he eventually paid for it and he was out of debt. I never really— I will forget the time— He farm with mules all the time. But he finally saved up enough money to finally buy him a tractor. And he didn't buy— My father was pretty independent. He didn't buy that tractor on time, he bought it cash. Stacey Scales: Oh yeah? Ernest Caldwell: Yes. Sure did. Yeah. Most of the things he bought on, he paid cash for it. He just worked and saved his money and paid cash for it. He didn't want to be beholden to— He knew the system and he didn't want to be beholden to the system. Now what caused him to be that way? I don't know. But you know, more or less I'm the same way. I grew up being the same way. My son, he grew up being the same way. Stacey Scales: Were your grandparents like that? Ernest Caldwell: Yes. I didn't know too much about my grandparents because my grandparents stayed in Tennesse, yeah, [indistinct 00:12:59], Tennessee and we left when I was three years old. But my grandmother moved, did move, to Blytheville, well a little place out from Blytheville and I'd go visit her. But so far as knowing that much about them, I didn't know— Stacey Scales: So you never really talked to your grandparents that much, would you say? Ernest Caldwell: Not too much, no. Stacey Scales: And you're traveling through the south, did you run into discrimination? If so, how did you handle yourself? Ernest Caldwell: Well, I would always conduct myself in a manner of not wanting to get into trouble. I heard so— And well, I read about it and I never witnessed it, but I heard so much about hangings and all of this. But whenever I'd go into a store, I'd say yes and no sir, no ma'am. Or whatever the case might be. Even though I was called boy, I'd conduct myself in a way that I wouldn't get into trouble. I can recall when I left, one of the reasons that I left here— Well I was— I taught school, I got my master's degree from University of Arkansas. I got my BA from Pine Bluff and I had a son born in 1956. And one of the things that I said was that I didn't want him to suffer the hardships that I did. And I moved from Arkansas and I went up north and stayed in, bought me a home up in Illinois. Not Illinois, Indiana. And I stayed there for 30 years. And after I retired, I came back here and I'm finishing my years here now. Stacey Scales: Okay. Was it much different living in Indiana than here? Ernest Caldwell: Well, the only difference that I could see was that here in the south, the White person was more— I'd say he was more— His dislike for Black people were more— How would you call that? More open than it was in Indiana, in the north. The White man there would tell you one thing and do another. So if a White person here in the south didn't like you, he would tell you, "Boy, I don't like you." But up there, they would say, "Yes sir" and be all together different. Stacey Scales: Did you have any veteran experiences [indistinct 00:16:30] racism? Ernest Caldwell: Yes, I was — Race relation in home services? Stacey Scales: Yes. Ernest Caldwell: I can't recall too of an experience in race relations that I had in service other than— In those days, so far as rank is concerned, you weren't promoted on the basis of what you knew. You were more or less promoted on the color of your skin. I can recall that. But other than that, I can't recall anything other than that. Now I can, and I can say this is one of the reasons that after I got my BS degree from Pine Bluff, one of the things that prompted me to get my master's was the governor [indistinct 00:17:47] son was going to school up at the University of Arkansas the same time I was. And I figured this way. I said, If a White man can get it, I can get it too. That's one of the things that prompt me to get my master's. Sure did. And I can't even remember whether [indistinct 00:18:16] son finished. I'm sure he did. But that was one of the things that prompted me to get my masters, other than trying to better myself. Stacey Scales: When did you realize that there were two societies, Black and White society? Were you younger [indistinct 00:18:40]— Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. At an early age. Yeah. Because at an early age I realized that I couldn't play with— You want to cut it off? Stacey Scales: Yes. You said you were pretty young when you realized— Ernest Caldwell: Yes, at an early age. Because I can remember an incident where, let me see, what happened was that this was a pretty car. I was at a carnival and the car was parked there and I'd never seen a car that pretty. And I went up to the car and looking at it and the owner of the car came around and said, "Nigga what you doing?" And he slapped me. I was just looking at the car and that stayed with me for a long time and told me to get away from that car. Yeah. I never will forget that. Stacey Scales: About how old were you when that happened? Ernest Caldwell: I was about 10 years old. Yeah. Stacey Scales: So how'd you feel after he did that? Ernest Caldwell: Well, I knew it existed, but I didn't knew it existed to that extent. Just merely looking at something. Yeah. And being punished with just merely looking at something, I didn't know that. There were, well, occasions I played little league and we weren't allowed to play on the white teams. And I played— Stacey Scales: Did you all ever play against the white teams? Ernest Caldwell: No, no, no. We never did play against the white teams. We just played against ourselves. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Stacey Scales: You were about to say you played something else. Ernest Caldwell: Oh, that was a little league. And then aftertI grew up, I played basketball and baseball too. But we always played against ourselves. That's even in high school, That's even 12th grade. We only had tournaments, white tournaments, in Black terms. Stacey Scales: What was the name of your high school? Ernest Caldwell: It's Harrison High School. It's H—A—R—R—I—S—O—N High school. That's in Blytheville, Arkansas. Stacey Scales: And y'all stayed segregated until you were even in the 12th grade? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Mm—hmm. Stacey Scales: Did the Negro League games ever come through the area where [indistinct 00:21:25]— Ernest Caldwell: No, I never did get a chance to see it. I only read about it after I grew up. I never did get the chance to see it. Stacey Scales: So were there local sports teams here or they were just mainly from the schools? Ernest Caldwell: Just from schools. That was when I was growing up around Blytheville, Arkansas. Stacey Scales: What would you do for entertainment when you were growing up? To entertain [indistinct 00:21:58]. Ernest Caldwell: Well, I would wait for the 4th of July and well, we'd celebrate the 8th of August as being our celebration because my dad was told that was the time that the news reached that particular area that the Blacks were free— Stacey Scales: In Arkansas? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Stacey Scales: And that was near— Ernest Caldwell: Blytheville. Stacey Scales: Blytheville? Ernest Caldwell: Mm—hmm. And so we had big picnics and then baseball games and all the little entertainments. But it was only the Black. The Whites more or less celebrated the 4th of July, and we celebrated the 8th of August. Stacey Scales: Now, would most Blacks celebrate the 8th of August [indistinct 00:22:44]? Ernest Caldwell: 8th of August, yeah. Stacey Scales: Is that still practice now? The 8th of August. Ernest Caldwell: I don't think it is now. I think there is a practice down in Texas called Juneteenth. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. I've heard of that. Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, they celebrate the, let me see, is it 18th or 19th of June? Stacey Scales: Right. Ernest Caldwell: July or whatever. Stacey Scales: 19th of June. Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Juneteenth. Yeah. Stacey Scales: Now, would people get up and say speeches and things like that on August 8th? Ernest Caldwell: No, it was just entertainment. It was just local entertainment. Yeah. Baseball games and barbecuing. Then get together with the local communities there. Stacey Scales: And the people. Would anybody talk about the significance of August 8th? Like the history and— You had said your father told you that's [indistinct 00:23:49]— Ernest Caldwell: Mm—hmm. Yeah. Now my principal would discuss this with us in school. I can remember being in his discussion back in school when I was going up in school. Stacey Scales: Oh yes. So at this time of the year, were you in school during the 8th of August? That time, was that school time? Ernest Caldwell: No, no. The 8th of August was a holiday for everybody in that particular community. Stacey Scales: So on the ninth, would you have school or where else— Ernest Caldwell: If it was a school day, yes. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. Did you all go to school all year round? I mean nine months out of the year? Ernest Caldwell: Well, no. When I was at that age, I went to school a half day. That was a half day school. That was during the cotton picking time, a half day in school. And the other half day they would turn out and we would pick cotton. Stacey Scales: And would the local white children pick cotton too? Ernest Caldwell: No, it was just the Blacks [indistinct 00:25:06] that— Breaking the system. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. What was the name of the grade school that you were going to? Ernest Caldwell: That was Mississippi County Training School. Okay. Stacey Scales: Mississippi County Training School. Ernest Caldwell: Hat was located in Amorel, Arkansas. That's in A-R-M-O-R-E-L, Arkansas. That was six miles, five or six miles, to Blytheville, I think I've told you that. Stacey Scales: So what other holidays— What would you all do on other holidays? Like Christmas? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, we would celebrate Christmas in our own way, at home or whatever the case might be. Yeah, we would do that. Yeah. Stacey Scales: When you were growing up, were there places people suggested that you shouldn't go? Like your parents? Ernest Caldwell: Oh yes. There were places, well places in cafes. There were times where— Certain places you couldn't go so far as cafes are concerned, only the Black cafes. And most of the times when you go from city to city, you would ask information about where were the tracks, because most Blacks live across the tracks. The tracks more or less divided to Black from the White. Stacey Scales: And is that true to most of the places that you've lived? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. More or less. There was division, that section of the town, it had to be some point where you could see that's the colored neighborhood and that's the White neighborhood. Stacey Scales: So what happened if you went to the White neighborhood or someplace where you weren't supposed to be— Ernest Caldwell: If you went there, sometimes you were asked— You'd be questioned, say, "Boy, what are you doing in this part of town?" Yes. And you'd have to have some kind of explanation or else they'd tell you get out. Stacey Scales: Would that be the police questioning [indistinct 00:27:34]? Ernest Caldwell: Uh—uh, just regular people. Just regular people. Yeah. Right. Stacey Scales: So, how did— Ernest Caldwell: I'm going and pick that [indistinct 00:27:44]. Stacey Scales: So did they have Black police back then? Ernest Caldwell: No. Stacey Scales: No? Ernest Caldwell: No black policemen, uh—uh. Stacey Scales: When did you move to the Brinkley area here? Ernest Caldwell: I moved back to Brinkley, I'd say in '86, 1986. Prior to that time— I left here in 1958. Well what happened was that I was teaching school in— Biscoe High School. That's about 12 miles from here. And in the summer times when school was out, I'd go and work on my master's degree at the University of Arkansas, UAP,B right here. Not UAPB, but University of Arkansas in Little Rock. And I got all the hours that I could get there. Then I had to go on campus to finish up and get my master's degree. I got my master's degree in agricultural education. Ernest Caldwell: And during this time there was a salary range that I never knew what the whites were getting, but I did know what I was getting. I was getting, what, I think it was $156 a month. That's for 12 months. I was teaching high school science. And after I got my master's degree, I came back and this was— And told the superintendent, he was a White fella. His name incidentally was Caldwell too. Stacey Scales: Oh yeah? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, I said, "Mr. Caldwell, I've gone off and I've gotten my master's degree." And it was time for us to start another year teaching. He said, "Well Ernie, I tell you what I can do. I can increase your salary by $10 more a year." Ernest Caldwell: That's from with a master's degree now, $10 more a year. In other words— Stacey Scales: Yeah. In other words— Ernest Caldwell: — I'd be making $166 a month. Not a month. He didn't increase it $10 a month. That's $10 more a year. Stacey Scales: And when did this happen? Ernest Caldwell: This happened in 1955, 1955, that's when I thanked him. I said, "Thank you sir." And I went out of his office and my little family and I— I left my wife here and I had a cousin in Chicago and they were hiring for— In the post office. And my cousin asked me to come up there and see if I could get a job in the post office until I could work myself in the school system. I had a master's degree. So I went there and I was interviewed at the post office. But unbeknownst to me, I didn't know you had to have some money under the table to give them. I passed the test, I passed the test, but they told me I flunked the test. I passed the test. Of course I didn't know anything about it under the table. Stacey Scales: So what type of system was that? Ernest Caldwell: I don't know. Stacey Scales: How did you find out that you had passed— Ernest Caldwell: Later on, yes. So my cousin was working in a place called Nabisco, National Biscuits Company. I imagine you've heard of Nabisco? Stacey Scales: Yes. Ernest Caldwell: Uh—huh. And he said, "Come on, go with me out here and I can get you a job." I was in need of a job real bad because I had left my job down here. So he took me out there and interviewed me. I took my little credentials with me and my master's degree certificate and all this thinking that I would get a good job. But the only available job that they gave me was sweeping the floor. They didn't hire any Blacks in supervision. The highest position you could get there was a baker. Ernest Caldwell: So I needed a job because I had a wife and a new baby. So I started sweeping the floor and I swept the floor. And with this master's, the Black fellas would kid me about sweeping the floor with a master's degree, but what else could I do? I need the job. But one thing I did, I kept my area clean all the time and they knew what I had. So pretty soon promotions came up and they promoted me to— It's a form of utility, running the sewing machine. In the factory they had these great big conveyor belts and to put them together, they had a great big sewing machine and you had to sew these belts together. So I learned that trade and that promoted me up to utility. Ernest Caldwell: And they asked me if I wanted to be, after a certain length of time, did I want to go and be a baker? And I told them, "No, I'm working six days. I want to stay right where I am because I'm more or less—" Of course I'm my own boss. I'd get on that and sew those belts in the least amount of time and put them back in production. And I was working six days a week. If I'd gone to the— Going to be a baker, I'd go at the bottom of my list and come up again. So I stayed there until I think this thing broke for supervision when— Who was that was in there? Johnson, President Johnson was— That's when the equal opportunity thing came about. And they came around and asked me if I wanted to be in supervision. I said yes. Ernest Caldwell: Well there was one person ahead of me and he had worked there for 18 years and he had high school education. So they promoted him first as a apprentice foreman. So the next Black person they asked was me. And I said yes. And I went into supervision as an apprentice foreman. And as a matter of fact, I worked myself from apprentice foreman up to general foreman. Ernest Caldwell: Then after a length of time, with them knowing I had the degrees that I had, there came a break for management and— Well, this was being a general foreman was supervision, but that was in the main office. They asked me if I wanted to come up and be an assistant to the assistant in hiring. And that was called, that position was called Assistant Assistant Personnel Manager. So yes, I said, "Yeah, I'll take a [indistinct 00:35:54]." Well they did tell me this, that I was the second Black person in management. So I went up and I tried it and it worked out so well. And I knew my job so well until I worked there about six or seven years in that position. Then they asked me— Ernest Caldwell: A position came over for safety director and they asked me if I wanted to be a safety director. And I told them I didn't know because most of the safety directors at that time were fired. All management didn't have a union, just.. So my personnel manager, he assured me, said, "Ernie, I tell you what, you go up and try that job and if you don't like it you can come back and be general foreman back in the warehouse." Ernest Caldwell: So I went up and tried it and I liked it and I stayed there and I started reducing accidents, reducing company accidents and all this. And with this company being the biggest bakery in the United States and my accident rate had gone down so drastic, they started coming to me and asking me what was I doing? I told them nothing unusual. I was just doing my job. So they asked me three times if I wanted to be promoted up in the June headquarters up in New Jersey. And I turned them down each time because I had established myself here there. I was buying a home, my wife had a job and I said, "No, all I want you to do is increase my salary." So they would increase my salary. And I stayed there until I retired. Stacey Scales: So you went from sweeping the floor with the master's degree to— Ernest Caldwell: To Safety director. Stacey Scales: Safety director. Ernest Caldwell: And after I retired, I think they tried four different persons to take my job and they couldn't get anybody to take it because— As a matter of fact, I was over and above, you know what you call a super negro. So they asked me if I wanted to come back to Nabisco as a consultant. I said no, I don't. Because I was just like a rabbit in the briar patch. I found my social security and my retirement pay was enough for me to live on. So I stayed there until I came back here because I like hunting and fishing. Bless you. Stacey Scales: Did you intimidate them with your degrees when you were [indistinct 00:39:04]? Ernest Caldwell: No. Bless you. No I didn't. Stacey Scales: Do you think that they were intimidated by you? Ernest Caldwell: I can recall one incident, was a White baker. He said to another White baker, "That Ernie, he thinks like a White man." I never will forget that. Yeah. I never will forget that. Stacey Scales: So what did you take that statement to mean? Ernest Caldwell: Well, I took that statement to mean that I was Black and I wasn't capable of thinking, capable of doing the things that a White person could do. There were many times I'd walk around that floor when I was sweeping the floor and I look at— Looking at the positions and I said I could do that. But they weren't promoting Blacks in those positions. Stacey Scales: How'd you feel knowing that you had those qualifications to carry on those responsibilities, but yet they were keeping you in the position [indistinct 00:40:18]? Ernest Caldwell: I felt real bad, because there were people, White people in those positions, that didn't have nothing like the knowledge that I had so far as education is concerned, or so far as being able to do those things. There were occasions where I would have to write out different things for some White friends of mine because they didn't know. Stacey Scales: Oh yes? They couldn't read? Ernest Caldwell: They could read, but they didn't know how to— Say for an instance, if I can recall one instance where I wrote out a statement that the fellow wanted to leave Nabisco and go somewhere else. And I wrote out a statement to that effect for him to go to the other company. Stacey Scales: So did your boss treat you fair? People that worked with you? Ernest Caldwell: Well they treated me more or less than— Well, in other words they call themselves having to bend over backwards to try to make sure that I was being, at that time, being treated fairly because they were afraid, I think more or less, that I would turn them in or whatever the case might be. Stacey Scales: Oh really? Ernest Caldwell: Mm—hmm. Because I would go to different places and I'd be the only Black there from my company. Stacey Scales: Right. Now did you work anyplace else then? You say you were trying to raise your family? Ernest Caldwell: No, that's the only place I retired from, that particular place. Stacey Scales: Did your wife work? Ernest Caldwell: Well my wife at that time, she's passed now, she worked at— When I was in Gary, she worked as a clerk up in the municipal department. Stacey Scales: Oh yes. So you lived in Gary, Indiana? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, that's where I did live. Yeah, I lived in Gary and I worked in Chicago. Stacey Scales: Oh, okay. You were living in Indiana. Ernest Caldwell: Mm—hmm. That's 30 miles, 30 miles one way. Stacey Scales: I'm from Gary. Ernest Caldwell: Oh yeah. [indistinct 00:42:51]. Have you ever heard of a place called Tarrytown? Stacey Scales: Yes. Ernest Caldwell: Well, my home was in Tarrytown, right there [indistinct 00:42:56]. Stacey Scales: Okay. I was born and raised on 10th and Wright Street. Ernest Caldwell: Oh yeah, I know where that is. Yeah. Stacey Scales: Washington [indistinct 00:43:05] Tarrytown— Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, mm—hmm. Yes. My son graduated from— What's the school out there? The big school— Stacey Scales: West Side? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. He graduated from West Side. Well little elementary school he graduated from, well he went to Alain Locke. Yeah. And well he graduated from West Side, at the same time he was going to West Side in his 11th and 12th grades he went to this trade school out there in— What was it? Glen Park or something. He's working on a— Stacey Scales: Trade? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Stacey Scales: Career center? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, career center. Yeah. That's where it was. And he got his certificate the same time he graduated from high school and he graduated from West Side. And his counsel influenced him to— I wanted him to go into supervision at Nabisco. But he determined his counselor and influenced him to go into engineering. So with his little high school diploma and his certificate from— What do you call it? Stacey Scales: The career center? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Mm—hmm. He went to Purdue and he got his degree from Purdue in engineering. Stacey Scales: Did you find the north different from the south as far as the Jim Crow situation or discrimination in Indiana? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Well, just as I say, there was discrimination but it was wasn't as open it it was there. It was there because fellows working right along with me, I never did know what their salary was, but they knew what mine was. Stacey Scales: So were whites getting paid more? Ernest Caldwell: I think so. I do believe that they were, because I can recall one incident where it was— I was an assistant and personnel manager and it was another assistant personnel manager and he let— He'll slip out once and I found out he was getting more than I was. But really that wasn't— I don't think there was anything that I could do about it. Stacey Scales: Were you all doing the same amount of work? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah. Mm—hmm. Stacey Scales: So did things ever change for you? Ernest Caldwell: I think things changed when they asked me to go a step higher in personnel as going to work as a safety director in the general office. And I didn't accept the position because it was too little, too late. I was way up in age then and I didn't want to uproot myself and then go up there and leave my family there and I'd be traveling from one Nabisco facility to another. So I elected not to change positions. I just stayed there until I retired. Stacey Scales: Would you ever come back and visit the south? Ernest Caldwell: Yeah, I'd come. My mother lived in Helena, Arkansas and I'd come here every year. Stacey Scales: Oh yeah? Ernest Caldwell: Yes. I'd come here and spend two weeks with her every year. Stacey Scales: Did you come back a different person?